


Omaha

by Terri Botta (Isilwath)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 9x09 coda, 9x09 spoilers, Episode: s09e09 Holy Terror, M/M, Season/Series 09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 14:27:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isilwath/pseuds/Terri%20Botta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coda to Episode 09x09 Holy Terror. Cas goes to Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Omaha

**Author's Note:**

> Gen, but could be considered pre-slash. Not beta'd. All mistakes mine.

There were tears. Gut wrenching sobs, actually, that Dean had swallowed and choked down before Castiel got there, but the angel had heard them all the same. Why Dean still prayed to him, he did not know. After everything they had done to each other over the last three years, it was a miracle of faith that the Righteous Man could pray at all. Castiel took it as proof of his Father’s love, even though he knew Dean would scoff at him if he shared his theory with the world-weary man.   
  
Regardless, Castiel had not been an angel again for more than a few hours, “mojoed” up on stolen grace - the grace of an angel that might have been an ally if the circumstances had been different (but he had done what he’d had to do, as he had learned how to do. Dean had taught him how to lie to get the things he wanted, but his own kind had taught him how to betray his brethren with a straight face.), when he had heard Dean’s desperate, sob-choked prayers. He wasn’t even sure if Dean was praying to him consciously, or if prayers to him were habitual and not dependent upon whether Dean thought the angel would answer.  
  
It didn’t matter. Castiel could hear the desperation and utter desolation in the words Dean spoke to the ether, and a terrible truth was revealed as he made his way to Dean’s side. Ezekiel, who was not Ezekiel, had been **_inside_** Sam Winchester, unbeknownst to the younger brother. This had been the secret Dean had tried to keep hidden, and the reason why Dean had sent him away.  
  
He really ought to have known. Dean had given him enough clues. He should have figured it out, but he’d been too caught up in his own trials and sense of betrayal. Now that he knew, however, so much made sense, and he waffled between deep concern and deep resentment.  
  
Yes, he should have known, but Dean should’ve known better, too.  
  
In the initial chaos of arriving to find Dean desolate, Sam gone and the prophet dead, there was little time for accusations or recriminations. And then once the dust had settled and Kevin Tran’s body had been dealt with, he’d found himself sitting beside Dean as the man braced himself against the wall of the storeroom where the prophet had drawn his last sigils and slid down to the stone floor. They sat, backs against the wall, legs bent up, arms resting across their knees, and he was silent as Dean stared off into space, lost in his own guilt and self-recrimination.  
  
“We need a code word,” Dean finally said, his voice rough and thick with emotion. “A fucking code word we can say to stop this shit. Y’know like “Omaha” or something.”  
  
“Omaha is a city in Nebraska, Dean,” he replied.  
  
“I know that. But it’s a code word. It isn’t something you’d say normally. That’s the point.”  
  
“What is the point then?”  
  
“The point is when you say it, everything stops. It’s supposed to remind you.”  
  
“Remind me?”  
  
“Us,” Dean corrected. “Yeah, that we have to trust each other. That we’re family. That we need each other, and we have to stick together. We say the code word, and it makes us remember. Remember to stop, and take a breath, and keep us from making these same fucking, stupid mistakes over and over again.”  
  
“Dean?” he prompted, confused.  
  
“Coz we gotta do it, Cas. We gotta stop this shit. We gotta stop keeping secrets from each other, and lying to each other, and betraying each other. We gotta remember that we need each other, and that we gotta stick together. Coz that’s the only time it’s ever worked, when we’ve stuck together. Every time we’ve tried to go it on our own, we’ve fucked up. **_I’ve_** fucked up. I’ve fucked up bad. So we need to stop. We need to trust each other and remember that we’re a lot stronger together than we are apart.”  
  
“And a code word will do that?” he questioned, unconvinced.  
  
“It’ll make us stop and remember. If I’d trusted you, if I’d remembered that we’re shit screwed up without each other, maybe Kevin would still be alive, and Sam wouldn’t be some lying angel’s meat suit. If I’d told the bastard impersonating Zeke that you were family, and you were staying with us no matter what he wanted, maybe it would’ve gone down different.”  
  
“More than likely he would’ve killed me to protect his secret. I knew Ezekiel. It would not have taken me long to discover that the angel inside Sam was an impostor. And without my grace, I would not have been much of a match for him,” he answered.  
  
“I dunno, Cas. You ganked a few of those dicks without your mojo,” Dean reminded him.  
  
“True, but… I would not have wanted to hurt Sam,” he admitted.  
  
He heard Dean sigh. “Yeah. But we still gotta stop doing this shit. And it’ll be hard. I know it will. Coz we’ve hurt each other, and lied to each other, and betrayed each other, and we’re both still hurting and mad, but we gotta get past it. We gotta find a way to get past it, coz that’s the only way this is gonna work. We gotta trust each other again, and have each other’s backs. And we gotta do it no matter how hard it is. We gotta find a way to forgive each other.”  
  
“And ourselves,” he added, pressing his shoulder to Dean’s because the contact was comforting. “You cannot deny that you would never have allowed the angel who answered your prayer to enter Sam if I had not told you Ezekiel was a good soldier who could be trusted,” he said, trying to speak around the spear of his own guilt impaling him in the chest.  
  
He’d wondered if his emotions would be muted now that he was an angel again, but while they might be a bit less powerful, he still felt them keenly, and the realization that he bore some responsibility for the current situation weighed heavy on him.   
  
“You can’t blame yourself for my fuck up, Cas. This was all me. I tricked Sam into saying yes to the bastard. I kept up the lie and did what he told me to do. I sent you away when you needed us most.” Dean’s breath hitched. “I shouldn’t have done that. It was a dick move, and you deserved better from me. I fucked up, and I am so, so sorry. That’s why we need the code word. To make us remember to shut up and trust each other.”  
  
“Give me your hand, Dean,” he said gently, and he was rewarded when the other man immediately complied.  
  
He drew his angel blade from the folds of his trench coat and made twin, shallow cuts across his and Dean’s palms. Then he pressed the bleeding wounds together and concentrated his grace. There was a flare of bright light, and Dean gasped at the jolt of energy, but then it was done.  
  
“What did you do?” Dean demanded.  
  
“I have bonded us,” he replied simply. “We were already bound, my grace to your soul, but this is a… deeper connection.”  
  
Dean yanked his hand away as if he were burned.   
  
“What the fuck, Cas?! Why the hell would you do something like that!”  
  
“To help us.”  
  
“By bonding us? I said we needed to stop being stupid, not get fucking **_angel married!_** What… what the fuck! Cas…”  
  
 ** _“Omaha!”  
_**  
And just like that Dean stopped in mid-rant, his eyes flaring wide for a moment before he took a deep breath.  
  
“Right. Right. Family. Trust each other. We got each other’s backs. Okay.” Dean took another deep breath. “Okay.”  
  
There were a few beats of silence as he allowed Dean to calm down, before he explained gently.  
  
“You are right. We have betrayed each other and hurt each other, and we are still very angry. It would be very hard for us to look past all of the pain we have caused each other, but the bond does that for us. In not being able to lie or keep secrets, we are forced to deal with each other honestly. It was what you wanted, Dean.”  
  
Dean huffed, but didn’t argue, and he couldn’t help himself, he started to smile.  
  
“What are you grinning about?” Dean demanded sourly.  
  
“The code word worked. Omaha. I ****_like_ it,” he confessed, his lips pulling further back from his teeth as he felt something akin to hope and elation.  
  
Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, I’m still not letting you pick out china patterns.”  
  
“That’s alright since I no longer need to eat.”  
  
That got a chuckle. “And it’ll take more than one beer to get you hammered.”  
  
“Considerably more than one.”  
  
There were a few more moments of silence, then Dean nudged him with his knee.  
  
“So tell me about this angel married thing.”  
  
“Technically we aren’t married, Dean. Angels don’t get married,” he answered in his typical deadpan.  
  
“Humor me.”  
  
“We are bonded. In its most basic form, the bond will connect us. We will not be able to lie to each other or keep deep secrets. We will also know when the other is hurt or in danger, and we will always be able to find each other,” he explained.  
  
“Most basic form?” Dean pressed, proving to Castiel once again that the man was no fool or idiot.  
  
“If it is nurtured, the bond will… grow stronger, and we will become… more connected,” he admitted.  
  
“And it’s nurtured by…?”  
  
“Close proximity and… touch.”  
  
Dean grunted, but did not pull away. Castiel was already beginning to feel the slight tendrils of Dean’s emotions reaching across their connection, but he did not draw attention to it.  
  
“What are we getting ourselves into, Cas?” Dean finally asked, looking up at the ceiling with a pained expression on his face.  
  
“The usual. Angels trying to kill us. Demons coming after us. Chaos. Mayhem. The destruction of all we know,” he said.  
  
Dean laughed without mirth and nodded, his green eyes brimming with unshed tears. “Yeah.”  
  
He reached out his hand to Castiel, and the angel slipped his hand into the upturned palm, noting that the cut caused by the angel blade was already healed.  
  
“But whatever comes at us, we will face it together,” he promised.  
  
“Together. Yeah,” Dean confirmed with a nod. “Together.”  
  
Castiel couldn’t hold back a smile as Dean’s fingers closed around his own.  
  
“Together.”


End file.
